


My Name In Vain

by CommonEvilMastermind



Series: Ellara Lavellan Collection [4]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Solavellan, almost exploding everything, campfire talk, processing being a Herald
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-31
Updated: 2016-08-31
Packaged: 2018-08-12 05:19:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7922023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CommonEvilMastermind/pseuds/CommonEvilMastermind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lavellan likes to swear by the Herald. Discussions of gods and divinity ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Name In Vain

Ellara muttered darkly over a sullen wisp of smoke.

“How’s that campfire going?” Varric called cheerfully. Ellara scowled at him.

“Everything is wet,” she complained. “The tinder, the wood, the grass-“

“Last time I checked, you knew how to cast a mean fireball.” The dwarf spread his hands. “What’s the problem?”

“Even a fireball needs to be able to catch the fuel and burn,” Ellara said. “And nothing will _catch_ because everything is _wet._ ”

They were traveling the Hinterlands, the third day in a light, soaking rain. Everyone had tired of it quickly.

“Draw a fire rune under the logs,” Solas advised, emerging from the twilight with another armful of firewood. “They will dry out from the bottom up and catch when are ready. And it supplies warmth as we wait.”

“Genius,” Ellara murmured, sweeping the kindling away to expose the muddy ring of the firepit.

“Merely experience,” Solas corrected, brushing bark off of his tunic. “Though I caution you to feed the rune slowly or else –“

There was a clap like thunder and a bright crimson flash. Ellara yelped, yanking back a slightly singed hand. “Herald’s mercy,” she cursed, examining the burn. “I see what you mean.”

Varric silently passed her a vial of healing salve. She held it in her teeth as she re-piled the kindling on top of the rune, which crackled hot with mage-fire. “At least you got the fire lit,” the dwarf said cheerfully. Ellara shot him a dirty look.

Cassandra crossed over from where she had been setting up the tents. “Herald-“

“Ellara,” the other woman countered, mumbling around the vial in her teeth.

“Lavellan,” Cassandra compromised. “Forgive me if I misheard, but did you just swear by your own name?”

“Yesh.” Ellara surveyed the fire critically – the kindling was burning well – then sat back on her haunches and spit out the vial.

“Have you changed your mind then, about your own divinity?” Cassandra scowled, thinking. “Do you not worship the elven gods?”

“Ye – no. It’s complicated.” Ellara struggled to open the salve with her burned hand. “It’s not like they’re around anyways.”

“What do you mean?”

Ellara huffed in frustration, mutely handing the vial to Solas. “The way I see it,” she explained, “there isn’t really anybody around to hear a prayer. Or a curse. Think about it. Elf gods, gone. Maker, gone. Andraste, nope. The Stone, gone. So if you want somebody to actually hear you, you’ve got two choices: me, and Fen’Harel. Who would probably find this whole situation hilarious in the first place.”

Solas snorted and handed Lavellan the uncorked vial. She murmured her thanks and scooped out the contents, spreading the thick salve on her burn with a hiss.

Cassandra didn’t seem pleased. “You say you don’t believe you are the Herald, so how can you swear in your name?”

“Because then I know at least someone is listening!” Ellara said. Varric barked with laughter, and even Solas huffed a breath in amusement.

Cassandra stood up and stalked away from the fire. Ellara scrambled to her feet. “Cassandra, wait.”

The Seeker stopped but didn’t turn around. Ellara padded on bare feet behind her.

“I’m sorry,” the elf said softly. “I mean no disrespect to you or your faith. Truly.”

“I am pleased I can provide amusement,” Cassandra growled, staring out into the darkness.

“Cassandra,” Ellara murmured. “That’s not it at all. Look.”

The Seeker turned around, arms crossed defensively across her chest. Ellara stretched out her marked hand.

“I don’t know where this mark came from,” she admitted. “If it’s Andraste or just dumb luck. But lots of people depend on me to be the Herald. They need it. They believe it. You believe it. And Andraste or not, if that’s what you need, I’m not going to let you down.”

“And yet you laugh,” the Seeker snapped.

“Because it’s either that or weep,” Ellara said softly. Cassandra’s eyes went to her face. The elf extended her other hand where the burn glistened red under the salve. “Chosen or not, Herald or not, I’m still just a woman, Cassandra. I bleed. I burn. Three months ago I had never slept in a bed. Now all of Thedas looks to me to save them. Me. I’m just one elf.” Her voice cracked. “Just a simple Dalish First with a knack for making things. With all of us together, I know we can do this. But some days, Cassandra, I either need to laugh or cry.”

“And so you laugh.” Something had softened in Cassandra’s face. She took Ellara’s wounded hand and held it gently.

“Sometimes I cry,” Ellara admitted wryly. “I try not to do that in public, though.”

“If you ever need a companion, for either - ” Cassandra fumbled.

Ellara grinned at her. “Thank you.”

They turned back to the fire to find the two men were watching them.

“Count me in,” Varric volunteered as they sat down. “Laughing, crying, doesn’t matter. A good dwarf ale helps with both.”

“You have many friends along with you on this journey.” Solas smiled his soft smile. “And we are here for whatever it takes.” Their knees brushed together. Neither moved away.

“So you’re saying that if I start praying to the Herald, my prayers will come true?” Varric looked up to the heavens. “Oh Herald, I desperately pray to you for a nice fat steak.”

“Go shoot an elk yourself,” she laughed at him. “And I didn’t say I answer prayers, just that I can hear them.”

“Oh Herald, I pray for one thousand gold.”

“That’s all? I would go at least ten thousand.”

“You have ten thousand gold?”

“No. But since I’m not giving you one thousand either, it’s not like it matters.”

“Ten thousand gold. And a new grip for Bianca. And a horse that doesn’t smell so bad.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s the laundry from your saddlebags,” Cassandra told him.

“And beautiful servants to do my laundry.”

“And the rain to stop.” Ellara added. “And waterproof armor and for the Breach to seal itself overnight.”

“Are you allowed to pray to yourself?”

“If I can curse myself, why shouldn’t I pray to myself?”

“I guess that way you can actually get an answer.”

“That’s what I was saying!”

They laughed, rain forgotten, as darkness fell around them. That day it was enough.

**Author's Note:**

> Best beta by rpglvr. Thank you for reading!


End file.
